


Walking in D-Town

by Chiefraz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 22:14:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1527605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiefraz/pseuds/Chiefraz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since there is a lack of Dudleytown stories here, I want to be the first.  DEFA is the Dark Entry Forest Association. Ed and Lorraine Warren were and Lorraine still is, the first names in ghost hunting.  So here we go, little Dean is given the birthday present of a life time........</p><p>Remember kiddies, it's okay if you don't believe in Dudleytown cuz Dudleytown believes in you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking in D-Town

Walk'en in D-town

 

When Dean Winchester turned six years old, his father gave him 38 police special, all the chicken fried rice he could stuff his face with and a trip to Dudleytown, CT for a little adventure .

“You're old enough to do this, you're ready,” John said in that conversational tone that implied heavily that his little man better be. The Impla rumbled its way down Route 7 hugging the Housantic River like shorts on a hook.....fat.......oh you bitches know what I mean, this story is about a six year old, even if it is Dean Winchester.

Up Furnice Creek Road, through Cornwall Plain and then taking the twists and turns of Dudleytown Hill Road made all the more hazardous in the January snow and chill. The car came to a halt at the pavements end and the foot path leading into abandoned village. In all the other seasons, the path was wide enough to drive thorugh, if one was allowed, but in winter, it was narrow, the width of a pair of cross country skis, which seemed to crisscross Coltsfoot Mountain that day. “Okay birthday boy,” John took a knee so he could look the child in the face, “all you have to do is walk the path, don't go left or right, follow it straight through and where the pavement starts again your brother and I will be waiting. Sammy girggled happily from his car seat, taking hits off the sippy cup John had filled with milk and just a light splash of bourbon to help with any teething issues.

Dean shivered with cold and excitement. His coat too small and the mittens too long, so it kind of evened out in the end. John had thought momentarily of a new jacket but the pistol was too important...a coat might keep you warm, but a gun would keep you from becoming cold and dead. “Can I take my new gun Daddy?” Dean asked hopefully, cuz what good's a present if you can run around and use it?

“Well.....no,” his father said after a moments hesitation. “Better that it stay with me for the moment, you don't wanna get it dirty right off.. “But,” he said pulling out a rather large super soaker rifle from behind his back, “you can take this bad boy and your very own gank stick.”

The little boy just looked in awe, the soaker was at least as tall as he and filled to the gunnels with holy water. The ganker was an old billy club John had drilled out, filled with lead and put on a leather strap that went around the wrist. “Daddy,” Dean squeeked dancing from one foot to the other. “It's just what I wanted!”

“Okay kiddo,” his father instructed. “If its a ghost or demon, soak it.....humans you can wack in the nuts and run like hell.”

“Yes Daddy,” Dean nodded sagely and sticking the ganker in his belt, asked about the possibility of cake and ice cream afterward, as it was still his birthday.

“If you run real fast,” John said. “We can stop at that diner we passed in Canaan, okay Sport?”

Dean took off like a shot.

It was at the 'Turn Back' rock that Dean had slowed to a walk and started to look about. The woods were quiet in the midst of a New England winter. Beautiful with the snow clinging to the boughs of the pine and the bare limbs of the oaks and maples stark against a clear blue cloudless sky. If there was a bird or squiral to be had it sure as heck not anywhere near where he was, as the only sound was his panting from the run. It was then he really started noticing a tall dark figure who he'd catch out of the corner of his eye, leaning out from behind a tree.

Turning quick, Dean would let loose a blast from the soaker, “I can see you....you dumb ole peek!”

Peeks were part of a group of things Dean had learned early about. Peeks, sneaks hooks and crooks. Low level and just plain annoying....like the little mousy frogs that lived with the dust bunnies under the bed and would come skiddering out when they thought you weren't looking. The child ran past a few cellar holes before he chanced a glance over his shoulder.

This time there was a yellow faced woman in a long black dress, who'd joined the peek behind the nearest tree. Dean was so busy trying to get a shot off at the pair that the six year old didn't notice until too late the flash of red plaid and the booted leg he walked into, bounced off of and fell on his butt in a drift. “Hey.....oh....Hi Lady, I'm sorry” And as his father did raise a gentleman...kinda sorta....or at least enough of one to know that if you're gonna knock a girl down you help pick her back up. And then find out if you have to knock her back down and gank her. “Hey Lady what you do'in up here?”

“Actually,” the woman said picking her self up brushing the snow from her long plaid skirt, “my husband and I were on the road to visit our daughter and I just wanted to take a bit of hike to walk the kinks out of my legs.” She regarded the child with a merry curiousity, “and may I ask the same question of you?”

“This is my birthday present,” Dean said proudly. “I'm showing my Daddy how brave I am.”

“Well, Happy Birthday then,” the lady said and then held out her hand. “I'm Lorraine.”

“I'm Dean,” as he took her hand, and idea hit where instead of giving it a shake, he turned it ever so slightly and gave her fingers a gentle kiss. Dean seen enough old movies while sitting up waiting for his father to come home from a hunt to know that girls went goofy for that stuff.

It seemed to work because Lorraine asked to hold his hand for the rest of the walk. “These woods just seem a bit scarey to me,” she said. “Could you walk me back to where my husband is, I would feel ever so much safer to be with someone so brave.”

And so they strolled the rest of the way, young Master Winchester assisting Miss Lorraine through the silence and scareness of Dudleytown until at the top of a bit of a steep hill, they stepped out of the woods and Dean saw his father and another man leaning up against the Impala. Sammy seemed content to have his sippy and be in the arms of the heavy set man his dad was talking to. “Hi Daddy!” He called, “this is Lorraine and I walked her here cuz she was ascared.”

For the life of him, Dean could not understand what his father found so funny.

YOU GET THE HELL OFF MY PROPERTY!!!!

The group turned to find a rather irrate woman in an overcoat, curlers and muclucks stomping up the road . “You get out of here before I call the state troopers to haul you off to jail.”

“Mrs Clark”, John gave a sarcatic bow. “A vision of loveliness as usual. What's shaken with the DEFA these days?”

Lorraine rolled her eyes and signed heavily, “we just stopped for a short rest and walk, we never would do anything to hurt your precious woods. Besides,” she said looking about. “This is a public road.”

“Oh right, and its soooo coninsidental that John Winchester-yes I've heard of you and the 'great' Ed and Lorraine Warren are here at the same place at the same time.” Mrs Clark glowered,. .Just sooooo full of yourselves with your 'investigations' and tours! You're nothing but a bunch of fakes, opportunists and trouble makers! ”

Sammy at that moment screwed up his face and started to cry, scared of this angry creature. He was too young to understand the words but he could feel the hate roll of her like sweat. “Eeeeeen! Eeeeeen!” The little guy still was having problems putting his mouth a round the letter 'D'. He wailed and wiggled in Ed Warrens arms, “Ennnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!!!!”

“YOU SCARED SAMMY!” His little brother, the bundle of sacred humanity he was given the night the fire took his Mommy away. No body was going to hurt his Sammy. So Dean Winchester unleased the full fury of the Super Soaker at the screeching Mrs Clark......as he figured this thing had to be a demon, cuz no human could look that bizzaro and be so mean.

It truly took everyone by surprise how far the curlers were blown off her head by the force of the water. “You know Ed,” John commented as he scooped baby Sammy from his friends' arms and grabbed up Dean in the other. “I think we need to get gone. Good to see you brother, Lorraine always a pleasure. Mrs Clark...” But she was running down the road screeching about the state police, assault and a whole slew of other nonsense that would prove troubling if everyone didn't burn rubber down Dudleytown Hill toot sweet.

“Bye Lorraine!” Dean waved. “Don't be ascared now, cuz I got that thing for sure.”

The little country store at the base of Dark Entry Road was still open when John walked in and picked up a six pack of Pepsi, a handful of Snickers and a large bag of Fritoes. Returning to the Impala, he tossed the bag of goodies into the back seat. “Happy Birthday Dean-o,” his father said. “You done good today.”

John knew he would regret his decsion in about 45 minutes when the sugar rush kicked in...but oh what the hell, nothing was too good for the boy who could always say that on his sixth birthday, he 'saved' Lorraine Warren and in Dudleytown to boot.

 

This story was written in memory of Ed Warren, a true hunter.


End file.
